


In My Darkest Dreams

by Miss_L



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gore, Graphic Description, M/M, Violence, dark!Peter, just really really dark, just... think bad and dark and iffy and it'll probably apply
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_L/pseuds/Miss_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What sights plague your blackest nightmares?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a horrible (and horrific) little drabble. Had to write some shit off myself, turned out to be worse than I expected.  
> Might turn it into a multiple chapter fic, not sure yet.   
> Heed the tags, seriously.

He watches Wade’s guts spill. 

When the merc heals, Peter plunges the knife in again, cutting forwards and backwards while pushing downward, like he once saw a butcher cut up a pig. He has done this so often already, the man hanging from the ceiling barely reacts. His writhing seems more out of reflex than from actual pain. Peter removes the viscera before Wade’s body heals, forcing the older man to grow a new digestive tract. Half the floor is already littered with intestines in different stages of development. The closer to the men in the middle of the room, the newer the organs are – Peter is getting carried away and impatient. He cuts again, watching the new blood run downwards over Wade’s legs. 

If there is a better feeling in the world than this, he doesn't know it yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter woke up with a jolt, tears in his eyes, cock hard and aching. He jumped out of the bed and sprinted towards the bathroom, only just remembering to lock the door before he shoved his boxers down and aimed in the general direction of the toilet. Unwanted images of viscera and blood and _pain on Wade’s face_ flashed before his tightly shut eyes as he pumped himself to completion, bigger pleasure than he could remember ever feeling washing over him, making his knees weak and his back arch. Once the blinding daze in his mind cleared, he clamped his head between both hands and slumped down against the wall, hysterics shaking his whole body.

Wade knocked softly on the door.

“Hey, Petey, you okay?” No answer. He still tried for levity, although the worry in his voice was unmistakable. “Are you PMS’ing or something?”

Peter breathed deeply through his nose. 

“I'm okay, Wade, just…” _Just_ what, _exactly?_ “Just a nightmare. About Uncle Ben.”

It was a heavy lie, but the truth would have been worse. He didn't even want to explain to himself what had happened, let alone his boyfriend. Wade knew not to ask, but Peter heard a heavy thump against the door as the merc flopped down on the floor. They sat in silence for a while. Finally, Peter got up and cleaned the toilet. Then ran a shower. The hot water couldn’t take away the shame and disgust he felt at himself, but it did a good job at dispelling the nightmare, at least.

When he finally walked out, Wade got up from the bed and opened his arms for a hug. Peter ducked out of the way and padded to the kitchen, never looking directly at his lover. He didn't make eye-contact once before he left for work.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter has been sullen and distant for weeks now. From what Wade could tell, the boy was having bad nightmares – that much was obvious. But Peter didn't want to talk about it, so the merc didn't push. Sure, it hurt a little that his lover wouldn't touch him, but the youth had been looking like death warmed over, so he assumed that Peter was just absolutely exhausted. He tried his best to be understanding and patient, but in the end, he snapped and stormed out of the apartment.

When Wade came back, something had changed. The tension was gone and Peter was finally his old self – happy and attentive. And if he was a little rough in bed, well, it was only to be expected after weeks abstinence and emotional strain he had no doubt been under. Wade relished in every bite and scratch on his diseased skin like it was a little hidden treasure. He fell asleep with a happy grin on his face, hugging his baby boy close.


	4. Chapter 4

Wade wakes up to Peter watching his guts spill.

When he feels his stomach heal, the boy plunges the knife in again with an almost manic expression of utter concentration on his face. Wade has shouted himself hoarse already, and he is too exhausted to fight the bonds that keep him suspended from the ceiling. The pain barely registers anymore. Again, his guts are ripped out by eager hands, and again his body repairs the damage. The floor is a mess of intestines and blood, and it would make Wade sick in his stomach if he _had_ a stomach to feel sick in. The cuts are faster, more ragged now, and the viscera keep piling up at their feet. He closes his eyes against the sight of Peter’s distorted features and gleaming eyes, but the smells and sounds find their way inside his head.

If there is a worse feeling in the world than this betrayal, he doesn't know it yet.


End file.
